Overtime
by Boofeh
Summary: Riku is working overtime at his boring deskjob, when suddenly a blackout strikes, and he runs into Sora in the darkness, who suffers from nyctophobia. ONESHOT [[friendship]]


There was a small "pop" noise as the whole building's power went out, plunging the office into complete darkness.

"Shit." I cursed as my five pages of unsaved work disappeared through a hole in cyberspace. If there had been light, I would have seen the post-it note attached to the top of my monitor laughing at me. It read "SAVE OFTEN – OR BILL GATES WILL COME AND KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP!" One of my co-workers, Olette, had written for me one day as a joke. And man, she was a strange one.

And what was worse than fact that the office was very large – fifty or so small cubicles were crammed in it, and I was right in the middle, and it was pitch black and I was all on my lonesome. I wasn't afraid of the dark, I was more afraid of Olette, but I didn't like the fact that the office was so huge and spooky and dark and I was alone.

Or so I thought.

About five seconds after the blackness came, I heard a small whimper from somewhere to my left.

Not that I'd ever admit it to anyone, but it really freaked me out, and I froze, trying to make the source of the whimper think that I was not there and not come and eat me.

"I-is anyone there?" A small voice said, coming from the same direction. I remained frozen. Monsters can imitate human voices, you know.

_Are you twenty or twelve?!_ A voice rang out in my head, mentally kicking me in the shins.

"I am here." I said loudly and clearly, despite lack of anything better to say.

"C-can you come h-here?" The voice stuttered. Hell, the voice didn't sound a day over fourteen. I could tell that it was a male, and he sounded like he was pretty close to shitting his dacks.

"What cubicle?" I said

"35" That was right on the other side of the office. It was a miracle that we could hear each other.

"Okay, there in a minute." I said as I felt my way out of my cubicle.

"Please! Please don't stop talking!" The voice cried desperately.

"Uh. Okay. What about?" There was the printer. I was going the wrong way.

"Anything!" The voice was reaching hysteria.

"My name is Riku." I said, cautiously feeling my way past the coffee machine.

"I'm Sora." The small male voice said. I could have sworn I heard a small sniff after.

"Dude, are you crying?" I said, trying my best to sound concerned. Argh, I sounded so... cruel.

"No! I have a cold!" Sora said defensively.

"Right. So what do you want to talk abo – SHIT MY HAND! FUCK!" I screamed as I withdrew my hand that I had managed to impale on some pointy object. It hurt so bad, my right hand began to shrivel with pain. Ow ow ow. I licked at the wound – there was a little bit of blood.

"Oh my God! Riku! Are you okay?" Sora panicked. I vaguely wondered if he was concerned for my well being or if there was a monster in the office that was going to eat him.

"Fine! I just managed to stab myself… on… a receipt spike. God damn Woolworth's." I cursed as I held my hand to my chest to try and numb the pain.

"Hang on; I think I have band aids somewhere here…" Sora muttered as I heard a draw open. "Don't stop talking, Riku!"

"Okay! Um. Like Shakespeare? No? Well, too bad!

To be or not to be: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep:

No more; and, by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd._"_ The words came thick and fast, and I occasionally broke off when I stubbed my toe. Why, oh why had my mother been such a Shakespeare freak?

"Still there?" I asked after two seconds silence. I didn't want to recite the rest of the speech, mainly because I didn't remember it, and also because I hated Shakespeare.

"Yes." The voice said from somewhere ahead of me. I was getting close.

"There you are!" I said as I reached cubicle 35 and reached forward to find my good hand on a warm shoulder "Great. Now we can either A, find our way to the fuse box, B, get the hell out of here, or C, stay put and pray to god this isn't a terrorist attack." I said, sarcastic as always.

"A t-t-terrorist attack?!" The kid standing in front of me cried, panicking.

I sighed. "No, I was being sarcastic. We're perfectly safe." I took my hand off his shoulder, only to feel two small, warm hands seize my arm and hold it there.

"I am not afraid of the dark." Said Sora. He was clearly in denial.

"Sure you aren't." Doubting him would not fare well for either of us at that moment.

"I'm afraid of what's _in_ the dark." He shuddered.

"Well, I'm in the dark, and you don't seem too worried about me." I said casually. Best to try and keep him calm.

"Notice how you're still at arm's length?" He said warily.

"Oh. Good point." I said, falling silent. This guy sure was paranoid! What was I going to do, pin him to the desk and ravage him?

**Author's Note: Tough luck, fangirls:D**

After a few seconds of eerie silence, he took a step closer and a small, timid hand began to gently touch my face.

"What the hell are you doing?!" I screeched, jumping back. Sora also jumped back. I know so because I heard him knock a bunch of papers off his desk.

"I wanted to know what you looked like?" He said in a painfully small voice. I began to feel guilty about yelling at him.

"Oh, Okay. A little warning would be nice, though."

"So can I…?"

"Fine." I said warily, standing still as one small hand that smelled like peanut butter ghosted over my face.

"You have smooth skin."

"Why thank you. You have soft hands."

"Heh."

Eventually, the hands fell away, and the only way I knew that the kid was still there was because my hand was still on his shoulder.

"So, do you still want that band aid?" He said awkwardly. I'd forgotten about the pain in my hand, but now my mind was on it again it hurt like hell.

"I think I'll live. Thanks, though." I said, licking at the wound again. That just made it sting more. Note to self; licking stabbity wounds painful.

"So… can I touch your face?" I said sarcastically after a while.

"Sure!" Came the oddly bright answer. Huh. Weird kid.

I slowly reached out with my good hand to find out that Sora was a head shorter than me, and he had spiky hair that stuck up in all directions. He had smooth, soft skin, a small, button nose, large eyes with long lashes, arched eyebrows, plump, soft cheeks and full lips, though they were a bit chafed, and he had a small, pointy chin.

My mental image of the guy was not that impressive to start off with.

"Eh. Great. What now?" I said after I pulled my hand away.

"Uhm… I know! Let's play I spy!" Sora chirped. Clearly he was about as useful as a one-legged man in an arse kicking contest.

"I hope that was a joke. For your sake." I said warily. I didn't have time for foolish jokes.

"Heh! Yes. It was a joke." Sora said. I could feel him giggle. Ugh.

"How old are you, anyway?" I asked. My guess was fourteen. Or somewhere around that mental age.

"I'm twenty in a month." Sora replied, sounding for the entire world like a five year old. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one in three months." I said. What the hell, I figured, if he was acting like a five-year-old, why couldn't I?

"Do you have a dog?" I realized that Sora was only trying to make conversation, but this was just silly.

"No, I have a cat, and she likes to kill things." I said. Oh well, at least he wasn't talking about the weather.

"Oh. I have a dog. His name is Rocky. He likes to chew on my shoes and pee on my carpet." Sora said. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Heh. What kind of dog is he?" I asked. I liked dogs, but cats were all I could really live with right now. Far cleaner. Less effort. And my tiny flat wasn't what you'd call a good home for a dog. Maybe a little yappy dog like a Chihuahua would be acceptable but I hated little yappy dogs. Big dogs were the way to go – preferably an older dog so that I didn't have to run around the city three times every day or take it to training classes.

"He's a husky." Sora said. "I have a picture of him on my desk somewhere. But it wouldn't really do much good right –"

At that second, Sora's babbling was interrupted by a soft whir that seeped from the walls, followed by the lights belching, well, light throughout the office. I instantly covered my eyes, feeling much like a vampire. Bright. Owie.

"… I stand thoroughly corrected." The voice in front of me said, an octave lower, all trace of fear gone.

I looked at Sora to find a short guy, who looked in his late teens, with brunette hair, deep, sparking azure eyes with a hint of fear tricking away, the cutest little nose and a small, smiling mouth. If he'd been wearing makeup, he'd have looked kinda like a porcelain doll. But there was no makeup, thank Christ. That would have been extremely creepy.

"Huh. Didn't realize you had grey hair." Sora said, eyeing my pride and joy (Well, the one I displayed to the general public. The one on my head, you sicko. No! Not – augh. Just forget I mentioned it.)

"It's _silver . _Get it right." I ran my right hand across my scalp. If my day got any better I'd have to kill someone.

"Holy shit, Riku! Look at your hand!" Sora exclaimed, grabbing my right hand and spreading my fingers wide, to reveal a deep red scratch. My whole hand was smeared in dried blood. Aww, shit. I even got a bit on my shirt. This was my good shirt, too. Bastard receipt spike.

As colourful curses continued to run through my head, Sora pulled out baby wipes from the top draw of his desk and began to wipe the cut clean.

"Dude, you have baby wipes?" I sulked as he stuck a hi-five band aid on the cut. Bloody thing didn't even cover half of the wound.

"Well, when you consider the amount of unwashed people in the room, baby wipes seemed like the most practical think to have handy." Sora said as he rammed the packet back into his desk draw. I nodded. He did have a point there.

I checked my watch. Quarter past six. The office was supposed to shut at five. That's the last time I ever worked overtime.

"Time to go home." I said "Home to my hungry cat."

"Yeah, Rocky's gonna eat me alive if I don't get home soon." Sora agreed. We both started to file out of the office.

"Elevator?" I asked Sora when we reached the hallway. Being on the eighth floor was really a drag. I could climb down the stairs, any day, but some days it just wasn't worth the effort. Today was one of those days.

"Yup." Sora jabbed the button. The door opened thirty seconds later. Whoa, lucky.

Idle banter was exchanged as we waited to reach the car park level, but for the most part Sora and I stood in a comfortable silence. We were both too tired to talk that much anyway.

Abruptly, the elevator jerked to a halt and the lights flickered and went out.

Almost as suddenly I felt two warm arms wrap around my torso and spiky hair brushing against my chin as Sora tacklehugged me. Geez, I could feel Sora shaking through our shirts.

I stood there, awkwardly, for about a minute, not knowing what to do or say.

"Sorry." Squeaked Sora, muffled against my shoulder. "Scary." I wasn't sure if he was able to say anything else. He was shaking pretty badly, and I could hear his heart beating a million kilometers an hour. Elevators were scary things, after all.

Slowly, my arm reached around Sora's shoulders. His shaking lessened. I pulled him tighter. It stopped all together. My other arm slowly draped across his shoulders. His heartbeat slowed.

And so we stood, in a silent embrace, until the elevator randomly started working again and the lights surged back on to find me flushing and Sora, white as a sheet.

I know it sounds cliché, but I knew that that was the start of a beautiful friendship.


End file.
